~ Goaded By Nuns ~

Dan took a long swig from the newly poured pint of lager. It was his first pint of the evening, the one he had been looking forward to all afternoon. He stood at the bar, savouring the taste, savouring the freedom it signified. His colleagues would turn up soon, his usual Friday night drinking buddies. Then there would be more pints – many more pints – and talk of work and the week past. And there would be jokes and ribbing and laughter – lots of laughter – until it was time to go for a meal and more laughter, after which he would catch a taxi or the late-night bus home, back to his empty, lonely flat.As he lifted his glass to take another swig, he noticed he was being watched – not just being watched, being stared at – by the guy standing a few feet away round the corner of the L-shaped bar. He didn’t know the guy to speak to, but he recognised him as one of the nerdy types from the Computer Department, a thirtysomething like himself with a mop of unruly dark hair and an overgrown beard. A pair of thick-rimmed black specs completed the picture of an anorak.“What are you looking at?” asked the anorak when Dan’s eyes made contact with his.“Eh? Sorry?” Dan responded. He was clearly taken aback by the ferocity of the anorak’s manner.“I said ‘What are you looking at?’,” repeated the anorak, staring even harder in an obvious attempt to give Dan the dead-eye.Dan was more amused than annoyed. This was a mix-up, surely. Or a wind-up. He thought for a moment before smiling and saying, “Look, we’ve obviously got off on the wrong foot here. I’m Dan–”“Aye, you’re Dan McKay. The great Dan McKay. Head of something or other. All my colleagues think the sun shines out o’ your bahookey. Well, I dinnae. I’m no’ a member o’ your fan club.”Dan was becoming more convinced this was a wind-up. No-one who wanted to appear tough would use the word bahookey, would they? Nevertheless, he was also growing impatient.“Right,” he said, unsmiling now, “I’ll tell you what. This is Friday night. It’s the end of a long, hard week. I came in here for a quiet pint. To relax. Not to be insulted by some hairy-faced wanker. So speak like that to me again – just one word – and I’ll break your fuckin’ face, whoever the fuck you are.”The anorak sighed, looking crestfallen. He removed his glasses, massaged under his eyes with his fingers and put the glasses back on.“Now that’s what I call being assertive,” he said in a softer, defeated tone. “I told Sister Agnes I couldn’t do it. I told her I just didn’t have it in me.”“Sister Agnes? Have what in you?”“She’s teaching me to be more forthright. I’m attending an assertiveness course she runs at my local church. I’m fed up being too mild, being seen as a walkover. I want to be more... more assertive... But I can’t seem to get the hang of it...”“You definitely can’t, pal. For a start, you shouldn’t be giving a stranger in a bar the dead-eye just because they look at you. Not unless you’re after a sair face, that is. And there’s a big difference between being assertive and being aggressive, which is what you were doing. Tell me, is Sister Agnes aggressive?”“Aggressive is an understatement. She’d make Genghis Khan seem like a pussycat.”Dan shook his head. “I doubt if an aggressive nun is the best person to be giving out advice on assertiveness,” he said. “My advice would be to become assertive only when it’s appropriate. When you feel someone is taking a lend of you, for example.”“Like me taking a lend of you?”“Aye, that’s right.”“Aye, people told me that you’re not the kind of person to be taking a lend of.”“But you did anyway? Because of Sister Agnes?”“Aye, I suppose.”Dan shook his head again. The anorak now looked even more like a sad teddy bear than an angry grizzly. He felt guilty about his earlier outburst. “What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.“Frank. Frank Reilly. Systems analyst of this here company.”“Nice to meet you, Frank.”“And you, Dan.”“Can I buy you a drink?”“Aye, why not?”